Unreliable Narrator
by rainsrabble
Summary: Maka smiled her best friendship everything is cool smile and sipped her drink. Touching was subjective to personality. Soul was a cuddle whore. That was all. That was why they touched more. She was just being paranoid.
1. In which Maka Becomes Aware

Maka ducked down a side corridor to avoid being seen by BlackStar. Three quick lefts and she was almost at a trot to make it up the stairs before the crowd caught up with her. She zipped into the ladies outside the teachers' lounge just as the first year Meister history lesson let out and she sighed. She tightened her pig tails, straitened her collar and let herself into the handicapped stall. She extracted her book, an apple and a ham sandwich, before tossing her bag on the floor. She sprawled on the commode, propped her boots on her bag, and eagerly opened her book. Maka loved her Tuesday/Thursday guilty pleasure. She would die of embarrassment if Soul caught her with her potboiler romance. She couldn't read them at school, her Brainiac reputation would be shattered if she was seen sighing over such silly nonsense. But on Tuesday's and Thursday's 3 star Weapons cut out by 11, and the day finished out with Meister classes. She loved Blackstar but had no desire to have lunch with him on days when Soul and Tsubaki weren't there to dilute his overwhelming personality. Add in Kid without the Thompson sisters to run interference for his OCD and lunch was quite ruined before her first bite. Instead she snuck off for a piece of quiet. She could read in peace, enjoy her lunch, and get in some ridiculously light reading. In her little make believe bubble she had an hour where men were always faithful and appreciated the shy independent bookwork girls. Harmless indulgence.

She had chosen her location with care, as hardly anyone stopped in this particular ladies' room over the lunch hour. So she was slightly surprised when the door crashed open admitting some very loud someone's. Giggling girls to be specific. They banged into stalls carrying on with their gossip but Maka paid them no mind, flipping her page with her patented nonchalance, fairly confident that the girls wouldn't even bother to notice that the farthest stall from the door was occupied. Still she was pulled rather abruptly from her reading when one them said Soul's name. She was always hyper-aware of anything to do with her Weapon. Their conversation was drowned out by a flush for a moment but quickly resumed and Maka tilted her head to hear better over the running water of the sink, slightly guilty at her eavesdropping behavior, but curious nonetheless.

"Oh don't bother with that one, he is sooooo taken."

"Who's he going out with?" A zipper sound and the sound of rummaging around. The ritual freshening of makeup and hair must have commenced.

"That big shot Meister, the scrawny blond that runs with their group. He's completely devoted to her."

"I thought she was his Meister, not his girlfriend." A smacking sound of lips and a kiss noise made Maka aware of her own hanging jaw and she quickly snapped her mouth shut before she caught flies.

"Oh, she's his girlfriend too," a third voice chimed in and Maka ducked her head to get a glimpse of three pairs of stylish shoes and fashionable tights that offered no clues as to their owners. "They even live together, just the two of them."

"Scandalous!" giggled kissy face girl. "Still, he's too scrumptious not to try. It's even better if he's not available. I'll take that challenge, climb that mountain. Isn't that what the DWMA is all about?"

"Stealing boyfriends? I don't think you get graded for that."

"It's not stealing if I can take him. Then he was never hers to begin with." The sound of a zipper signaled that they were finishing up and Maka realized at some point that she had climbed to her feet. She fumbled at the latch of the door even as their voices moving towards the door were almost drowned out by their clacking heels. "We can call it an extracurricular activity."

Maka fumbled her stall open to catch the tail end of laughter as the door swung shut behind them and she rushed to the door, flinging it open to see three girls turning the corner towards the stairs. She didn't know them, at least not well enough to recognize them from their swinging backsides and long blonde hair. Maka collapsed against the door frame and took a shaky breath. Girls flirting with Soul was hardly new. However this was the first time that she had ever heard that people thought she was his girlfriend. She had the irrational urge to chase them down and correct them. She came to her feet with a deep breath and turned back into the bathroom, pulling rationality around her like a familiar warm blanket. They were just some silly underclassmen. She seriously doubted that it was a common belief that she and Soul were a couple. They were obviously a close Meister/Weapon pair but DWMA students, with the exception of 3 brainless gossiping flirts, knew better to make a thing of it. She went back to her stall, flipped open her discarded book, and got comfortable. Not worth fretting about, and her living arrangements were no one's flipping business anyway.

* * *

Maka tried to push her silly lunchtime eavesdropping to the back of her mind and get on with her day. Walking through the halls she caught a flash of blonde swaying hair and spun around, but it wasn't the same girl. She got so caught up in wondering if she ought to warn Soul of a blonde barracuda that she didn't get her notes down. Soul knew how to spot a light skirt. He never let silly flirts turn his head. She didn't need to worry about him. He wasn't Spirit. Her ears strained to hear her name or Souls name in the halls but heard not a whisper. Not a single strange look. It was just some silly gossip.

Still she found herself hyper-aware when she exited the school amidst a crowd and took the stairs two at a time. Soul was alone across the street, waiting for her. Braced up against his bike, hands shoved in the pockets of his black jacket, one foot slung over the other. The very picture of slumped bad boy, a familiar sight. He was always a little bit early to get her so she wouldn't have to wait. For the first time however she noticed that he was the only weapon in sight. Granted a lot of the students lived on campus, but she couldn't be the only one who had a weapon who came to collect her. Even so, now that she was looking around, he was conspicuous by his presence. She didn't so much as glimpse another weapon. She slowed her step while her thoughts raced ahead. Was this why that girl thought that Soul was her boyfriend? She had said Soul was devoted to her. And he was. As he should be as her partner. Weren't most pairs devoted?

A spark of anger lit in her soul when she spotted a familiar trio of blondes break away from the crowd and cross the street. She put some force and swagger into her walk. Big shot Meister was she? There was a reason why she was a big shot. It was because she was one of the best. Skanky blondes ought to watch who they were running their mouth about. She might not have been Soul's girlfriend but she didn't like the idea that this chick thought she could dismiss her supposed claim out of hand. By the time she hit the asphalt her anger was a simmering flame. She was pleased to note that Soul hadn't shifted from his nonchalant pose and was giving his usual mono-cyclic replies to their inane chatter about school stuff. He spotted her as she approached and straitened to take her bag. "Yo, You all know Maka."

Maka aimed her sharpest smile at the girls and was pleased to note they drew back a bit from where they had been crowding Soul. They smiled back, sweet as molasses but Maka was wise to them. Without another word to his admirers Soul slung his leg over his bike and it roared to life even as Maka got close enough to climb on behind him. In a weird moment she couldn't even explain to herself she pressed her whole length against Soul and made a show of wrapping her arms around him. She took her time sliding one hand around his lean hips and the other firmly up over endless rock hard abs so that it wrapped around his chest. She laid her head up against his shoulder, smiling all the while, as she physically laid claim to him. He revved the bike without a word, tipped his hand in a small wave, and peeled away without ceremony.

Once on the move Maka relaxed into Soul, shifting into turns with him as if they were one. The roar of the wind in her ears drowned out her own stupid thoughts and she was grateful to be pressed against his back so he wouldn't see the hot blush that stained her cheeks. She couldn't believe that she had just done that. She hadn't even stopped to think, just reacted to the hot feelings welling up in her, and wrapped herself around him like a ribbon. Rejoiced in the surging satisfaction at the look on those girls' pretty faces. They might have dismissed her out of hand, but she was a Meister, and Soul was hers. For a moment she had been high on her own power and victory. But now, away from those girls, she felt ridiculous.

Soul didn't seem to cotton onto anything weird in the way that she held him and if he took the long winding way home it was probably just because it was a beautiful day for a ride, not because he somehow knew she needed a little extra time to compose herself. He was used to her touch, he wouldn't think anything of it. As he shouldn't, because there was nothing to it. Nothing at all. Maka melted into her weapon as they sped into curves and bends letting the motorcycle outpace her embarrassment and leaving the weird encounter in her past.


	2. In which Maka Becomes Obsessed

Maka knew she was being ridiculous. But now that the idea had been planted in her mind it wouldn't go away. She had begun to overanalyze every interaction she had with Soul, constantly breaking every minute down into how others might see it. She hated it. She hated that she couldn't stop. She hated the shadow that had been cast over her relationship with Soul. She hated how this obsession was creating tension and paranoia over what was once was comfortable and safe. She wanted to go back in time and change that day, make it so she never heard that awful three minutes of gossip. She wanted to convince herself that she was way off base with the startling conclusions she had begun to draw. She wanted to fix this. What she needed was an objective opinion so she could put things in perspective and get over this…fixation.

Which was why she was having lunch off campus with Tsubaki. Not unheard of, if rare. She definitely didn't want anyone to hear the conversation that she had no idea how to start. Tsubaki was both clearheaded and non-judgmental, an incredibly rare combination. Maka was so lucky to have her as a friend. Still she had to approach this carefully. Tsubaki wasn't like the Thompson twins, to immediately assume that Maka wanted to get kissy face with Soul. But she didn't want her friend to get the wrong impression. Asking personal questions about another Weapon/Meister pair was slightly taboo. But she had to know.

Still, they had made it to the desert portion of lunch and her hour was running out when she blurted out some nonsense about how she had been observing Tsubaki and Blackstar and how they seemed to be especially close. She wanted to bang her head into the table, she wanted to flee in embarrassment. Now it looked like she was stalking her friend. Or judging her. "What I mean to say, is I just happened to see, you know, the other day. And Blackstar was holding your hand and smiling at you and not being his usual self at all and I just wanted to know, how often, you know, you all touch like that."

Tsubaki blushed and looked down at the table. "Blackstar isn't always physically affectionate like Soul but he does care about me in his own way." She twisted her hands and Maka reached out to still them. She wasn't judging. She needed Tsubaki to know that. "Sometimes Blackstar is kinder to me in private, because it's hard for him. You know how he is."

"I know BlackStar adores you!" Maka exclaimed and squeezed her friends' hands. "I just wanted to know how often you guys touch because I've been watching the class. I've been counting casual touches between pairs. Soul touches me 40% more than the average in our class, but I don't know if other Meister Weapon pairs are more affectionate in private or if it's an aberration."

There it was out on the table.

She and Soul were physically closer than any other Meister pair that she had observed. They also had the very best resonance rate. Before those foul gossip hounds had cast a weird light on her relationship with Soul she would have simply correlated these two facts, cause and effect. He trusted her. She trusted him. They worked on their relationship. But now she needed to know if people saw more than there was.

Maka knew with 100% certainty that Soul had no romantic interest in her. This allowed them to continue as partners. He loved her. She loved him. But he did not want to get into her pants. He did not stare at her breasts and spout a nosebleed every time she flashed some thigh. She didn't know why it bothered her so much that others might think there was more to it.

Tsubaki burst out with a rare giggle and squeezed Maka's hands.

"Maka, are you trying to research how physical touching affects resonance rates by counting how often weapon pairs hug?"

Make pulled her hands loose and sat back fighting to keep her face smooth and not give into the scowl that was lurking under her skin. She was irrationally hurt. Yes, there was nothing going on with her and Soul. She most certainly had just been trying her best to word things carefully so her friend would not draw the absolute wrong conclusions. But it did sting a bit that the idea didn't even occur to Tsubaki. That she was pigeon holed into her "brain" persona.

Just because Soul was so "Cool" Didn't mean it was completely out of the realm of possibility that he would ever be interested in a wallflower book worm. Actually it was. She knew that. Everyone knew that. That was the point of bringing up this conversation. It was stupid to be hurt. "It's a legitimate theory."

If her voice came out a little cool, well she had done her best. Tsubaki, sweet girl that she was gave her a bracing smile and tried to help her with this now ridiculous line of reason. "I doubt Kid and the Thompson sisters are any more physically affectionate in private. Touching is a side effect of a close relationship, but I think that it's not a good way to measure since it's so subjective to personality."

Maka smiled her best friendship everything is cool smile and sipped her drink. Touching was subjective to personality. Soul was a cuddle whore. That was all. That was why they touched more. She was just being paranoid.

* * *

Hyperawareness was ruining her life. Her stomach was twisted in knots. She wasn't able to relax even when she was alone. All she could do was play the day's details over and over again in her mind. She was making Crona look well-adjusted and happy. She had never thought she would wish for the day that she would bounce through life oblivious to the world around her like Patty. Now she knew it wouldn't be so bad. She wanted that obliviousness and she watched Patty now with a twisted sort of envy as the girl made a rather impressive castle out of her mashed potatoes. Maka wished she could be so absorbed completely by a task. Any task. Instead she was very carefully not watching Soul as he made his way through the dining hall. Late, even for lunch, absolutely unapologetic about shoving Black Star down a couple of inches so he could swing his way over the bench to squeeze in next to her.

Maka hated herself even as she carefully noted that most weapon pairs sat next to each other at lunch. Hated that she couldn't stop herself from adjusting her body to make room for him and being unable to stop nagging at him for being late. Like she was his mother. She couldn't help but swat at his hand when he snagged her lunch, she couldn't help it when she hip bumped him in her irritation while trying to get her apple back. Hated that her table laughed at their antics but didn't seem all that surprised when she practically had to climb him like a tree to get her apple back.

Maka hated that she shoved her tray towards him, making him finish her burger and fries while she devoured the coveted apple. She munched angrily, well aware that she failed again in this interaction. Not only were they the most physical weapon pair, she had come to the disturbing realization that she was the one who did most of the touching. Soul wasn't the cuddle whore. She was! She was even more disturbed that she couldn't remember when it happened. When she got so comfortable touching him. She distinctly remembered when she didn't touch him at all outside of practice. She just couldn't remember when that had changed.

How much of this touch fest was just being comfortable friends? How much of this touch fest was leaking feelings from her much abused, long abandoned, carefully repressed, unrequited crush that she had on her weapon. She didn't want to be one of those girls who couldn't have a friendship with a hot guy without making moon eyes. She had been proud of herself that she had outgrown her silly lovesick obsession and moved onto a mature platonic love for Soul. Of course she loved him. He was the first guy she'd ever been able to trust. Her true heart friend. So what if sometimes he gave her the physical low down tinglies, she was human and he was attractive. It was just a chemical reaction and they were above it.

Her out of control Jealousy when other girls flirted with him was her cross to bear at the moment, but she was working on it, because they weren't like that.

But she couldn't un-know what she knew. And now she knew she was staking a physical claim on him every time they were together. Just like she had last week on his bike. It was unconscious before. Now however she knew about it. And she still couldn't stop. She couldn't stop and now she began to worry whether he would know.

Soul wasn't stupid. Lazy, inconsiderate about their grades, mouthy. But not stupid. In fact, he was a lot more socially wise than she was. He usually was the one to clue her in on the emotional mood of the group. He was the one so in tune he could literally play their souls on the piano. If she hadn't given her stupid unprofessional one-sided attraction away before by glomming all over him daily, she would surely give it away now that she was nervous about it. He'd even asked her if she was okay this morning.

Shirtless and tousled, voice rough with sleep, eyes droopy. Her personal favorite look of his. Because she was usually the only one who saw him that way. It was another one of those private thrills that he was hers and no one else's. Now she was forced to acknowledge how much she liked living with him because of moments just like that one. He'd stepped into her space, hand checking the back of her neck for fever, peering at her closely with an attention to detail usually shut away behind his cool persona. Caring about her, worried about her. Knowing something wasn't right. She knew it wasn't right either. To lean into his touch, to murmur that she was fine, even as she soaked up the heat from his body and inhaled his clean boy scent fresh from his blankets before coffee or breakfast or anything layered on top of Soul smell. She shouldn't be doing that. She shouldn't be feeding the dysfunction of it.

She ought to be able to get this compulsion under control. Now that she was aware of it, it was creepy and wrong. It was also extremely creepy that none of her friends had ever teased her about it even once. They teased her about everything. They teased her about her hair and her dad and her scholastic ambition. They teased her about her books and her tits and her clothes. It now seemed incredibly off to her that they didn't tease her about being jealous over Soul's many admirers. That no one blinked an eye when she used an apple as an unconscious excuse to clamber all over her weapon. After her lunch with Tsubaki on Friday she had been slightly miffed that her friend wouldn't even for a second entertain the possibility of her and Soul as a couple. Now she had an infinitely more disturbing suspicion. That instead no one teased her because even her friends assumed they were a couple.

It was the only deeply discombobulating theory that made sense.

Did Soul know about this? Had he let people think that? How had she not known about it?

In irritation she tossed her able core at his face, cursed his reflexes even as he ducked, and sighed as her core landed spectacularly in the middle of Patti's truly mountainous mashed potato castle. Never a peaceful lunch among her people to be had. She couldn't even blame Patty when the mashed potatoes came flying back at her face with deadly precision. That castle had been a work of art and Patti was pissed!


	3. In which Maka Denies

Maka had decided this wasn't her fault. The problem wasn't her and it wasn't Soul. It was that their boy girl relationship was out of context. Usually if a boy was physically affectionate, extremely protective, hyper aware of your every move, and spent all his spare time with you, then that would indicate romantic interest at the very least. Possibly even an unhealthy obsession. All the cues that would indicate that a boy liked her and she liked him back were there. The touching, the talking, the time spent together. However, filtered through the lens of their partnership those things had seemed perfectly non-romantic to her until that stupid conversation that she wished like hell she had never heard.

One hard lesson she had learned while training to do group resonance was to face up to the truth. Even when it was hard. Even when it wasn't what you wanted. She did not want to be romantically attracted to Soul. She knew it was inappropriate. It could ruin their partnership. She did not want to screw up the wonderful thing they had. Period.

Unless Soul wanted something more too.

That was the rub. That was the hard truth of it. She had the sneaking suspicion that everyone, friends included, thought they were a couple. As unreal as it seemed, it also seemed to be true. If that was true, it was also true that Soul had done nothing to disabuse anyone of the misconception. She might have been oblivious to this conclusion that her friends had drawn, but Soul would have known. He always knew stuff like that. Who was dating who and who was broken up and who was fighting and who was getting along.

So Soul was dating no one else, and not telling people he wasn't dating her. And because the social dynamic between them was so skewed she had no idea what that meant. Was Soul an excellent trustworthy partner or was he flirting with her? Hell, maybe he thought they were dating too. Case in point, tonight, Friday Night, they were careering through the dark on his bike to go get dinner. They were eating out together. They did it all the time. Anyone else it would be a date; but she had always thought of it as getting a bite to eat with her partner. Anyone who didn't know them though would surely think it was a date. She didn't know why she had never thought of this before. This was date-like behavior. Except it was them. They were just Soul and Maka. A couple of non-couple people.

He'd looked up from the empty fridge when she'd walked in the kitchen. Barefoot, with his lazy half grin, and sleepy eyes from his recent nap. Adorable. Adorable and hungry. Standard Soul Eater. "You want to go to Joe's?"

Of course it was that simple. They ate at Joe's often. Soul was not to know that she was now officially freaking out because things between them might not be the way she thought they were. So she'd agreed and he'd hustled her out barely giving her time to grab her jacket, stuffing his feet into his shoes without bothering to tie the laces. The night was clear and cold and the stars were especially bright. The low hanging moon seemed to mock her so she turned her face away, leaning with Soul into a curve, greedily sucking up his warmth as she held him tight. She hadn't been able to make herself keep her hands to herself on the bike either. It was a free pass to wrap her arms around him and hold him close. Fantasize about what it would be like if he was her boyfriend and she could touch him anyway she wanted to. She remembered how it had felt last week when she'd caressed him in front of those girls, and now she couldn't be this close without remembering that possessive feeling of power rising up in her. It had felt so good. It so shouldn't.

Soul found good parking, sliding his bike into a tiny little space probably not meant for a vehicle and let her climb off first before kicking out the stand and getting off with her. He reached out and straitened one pigtail and she had to fight against biting her lip and turning her face into his warm hand. Surely this went beyond partner behavior. Fixing her hair. Surely this was more boyfriend behavior. Surely she was building castles in the sky because Soul had never once indicated that he wanted anything more with his scrawny bookworm partner.

"You Okay?"

Second time he asked in a week. She was off. He could tell. They had an extracurricular mission scheduled for tomorrow. She had better get her stuff together and stop thinking about this. Thinking about how Friday night was date night and Soul was out with her. Because he was her partner. Her partner who did not stare at her tits and did not want to kiss her. Her partner who would not be happy if she continued to be "off" tomorrow while they were supposed to be doing what they do not mooning over the suddenly possible possibilities that she had long ago acknowledged were not possible. This made her head hurt. It was like trying to figure out time travel.

"Headache" she was able to deadpan back at him with complete honesty.

"Okay, lets feed you." He gave her a little shove to get her moving and in just a few steps they were inside the warm comfortable burger joint and being waved to a booth by a busy waitress who knew them by name. Did the waitress think they were dating? He'd opened the door for her. Waited for her to sit down before slouching into his own seat. Leftovers from his fancy smancy upbringing she knew. The waitress didn't know that however, so to an outside observer that might be date behavior.

Since she had never been on a date, she had no idea whether that was standard on a date. That was just the way Soul treated her all the time. Soul sat across from her. Did dates usually sit across or on the same side? Again, no flippin idea. The waitress plopped down water glasses on their table as she breezed by with just a smile at them. That was one of the reasons they came here. Good service. She didn't know if the service was good here for everyone, but Soul was a sneakily good tipper and their waitress knew he would take good care of her.

Maka took several gulps of cold H2O in an attempt to distract herself. There was absolutely no way she could engage in resonance with Soul tomorrow without resolving this in her mind tonight. She needed to bring it up. She needed to get her head strait before he was privy to her private feelings tomorrow. If she spilled her feelings all over him tomorrow during battle he would most likely transform, slouch off to his bike, and get a new partner. He would not think this was cute. They were professionals for Death's sake.

Problem was she had no idea how to resolve this. She certainly didn't want to repeat her disastrous lunch babble with Tsubaki. Worse, the most twisted part, she didn't want to ruin her nice evening out with Soul. On Date Night.

She was screwed.

She fiddled with her dinner, he played with his phone in between shoving fries in his mouth and sucking on his milkshake. That was surely not boyfriend material. She would never date a guy who put his face in his phone instead of paying her attention. She firmed her resolve and took a vicious bite out of her burger.

The whole theory was stupid. She knew Soul didn't think they were dating because he wasn't a fucking saint. He would have kissed her. He was absolutely fearless and wouldn't pussyfoot around. He was just hungry, not secretly taking her on a date. He probably didn't go around telling people they weren't dating because it kept the fan-girling to a minimum. God she was so stupid. All this was in her imagination. She was blowing things out of proportion due to some stupid illogical crush. She needed to squash it and focus on her career and their partnership. She just needed to shake it off.


	4. In which Maka Screws Up

Saturday dawned cold and clear. She had their bags packed already and she was well used to what it took to maneuver her weapon into a vertical and easily herded position. It was a little uncomfortable to have her father and Stein in her living room while she used both feet to brace her back against Soul's and force him into the bathroom to brush his teeth while he stood there, head back, drooling. But she was used to his comatose mornings and she merely ignored her father and sent Stein a small apologetic smile.

It wasn't as if they were running late. They were supposed to leave at 5:00 AM. She still had 15 minutes. It was their own fault for being early. Soul's Death Scythe status and her own 3 Star Meister ranking meant that they sometimes worked with other Death Scythe ranked pairs. Usually her father and Stein. On one hand she hated it, on the other, the experience was priceless and well worth the uncomfortable scrutiny from her dad.

This mission was important enough to send two experienced teams so she needed to stay focused.

* * *

Maka could not stay focused. She felt like pulled taffy. Being stretched and twisted and overextended. Every time they fell into rhythm she was forced to pull back to keep Soul out of her thoughts. They kept dropping in and out of the black room so quickly that it felt like a strobe light was flashing in there. Soul was so irritated with her that she half expected him turn his blade on her himself.

They dropped resonance completely for the fourth time, botching Witch hunter. She managed to deal damage to their opponent anyway before getting out of striking distance and gaining them all of half a second to regroup. She had half a dozen scrapes and scratches and was grateful it wasn't worse. Muscle memory from hundreds of hours of intense training was all that was keeping them in the black in this battle. She was aware that she was completely off her game.

"Fuck is wrong with you Maka!" Soul was snarling at her, fumbling for her soul. She was pulling back causing the link to stutter and flex in a way that it hadn't since they were children just trying this out. She was so frazzled and upset she knew she had no filter on her thoughts and emotions. She just needed a second to gather herself, put up her shields, before they resonated again. But he gave her no time. Pushing hard in a way he rarely did, forcing the link to stagger into existence.

He tried to drag her under into the black room, create that smooth soothing pulse that was them, put them in the zone, but she pushed back just as hard and sprung across the distance to their opponent to take advantage of their shaky link and put him down so she could disconnect. Vaguely she was aware of Stein and Papa clashing with two Kishin in her peripheral but she had all she could handle in front of her.

She however was forced to switch to defense because this sucker was stupid fast and Soul was heavy and weighted one second and light as air the next, fluctuating as wildly as their bond. He was wrapping his soul around her, causing extreme panic and she was reduced to hacking at their opponent and dodging with little to no finesse as she fought for dominance of soul resonance with most of her concentration.

"Knock that off!" he shouted, pushing hard, getting inside and for a handful of seconds she was a flurry of dominance putting the hurt on their opponent. Her steps sped up, her blows backed up by Soul's devastating power. She closed, confident, wanting to finish this. But pulling on his power pulled them deeper in their bond and she felt him slip into her mind, felt his presence quivering inside her Soul, his voice now in her head skittering across her nervousness.

"That's it babe, roll with me." More a feeling than words. Approval and focus and an edge of bloodthirstiness that would surprise an outsider. His irritation was acute and jagged and barely held in check by affection that latched onto her own wild feelings and then pulsed in recognition. She tried to pull back, keep him from being in so deep, side stepped wrong, and then was completely ambushed as the Kishen darted in, his blade coming away dark with blood.

Fury swamped over their bond, a tide of black blood rising up in Soul's rage, breaking the barrier and overwhelming them both. His power was unfocused and raw and rushed through her even as she stumbled, her body aware of the pain and weakness from what was a serious wound. There was no room in her soul for caution with all of Souls rage and insanity so she didn't pull back and regroup and retreat. Instead they advanced even though distantly she could feel herself bleeding out and Soul was cutting through smoke and then magic and then finally slicing a fatal blow. She was falling even as their opponent dissolved and she vaguely felt her head collide with a boulder she'd been using as a cover/springboard before Soul could dissipate into being a boy catching her.

She didn't lose consciousnesses. She tried to slip into welcoming darkness but Soul was holding onto her awareness, resonating hard and forcing her to stay in the grey. She vaguely was aware of him shouting, panicked words that didn't synch with the soothing calm in her head telling her to stay awake, stay calm, that he'd have her patched up in a minute.

She felt dizzy, nauseous, and remotely realized that she was probably concussed.

She wanted to close her eyes, but instead focused on Soul's presence. Begging her to look at him. To stay with him. To talk. She tried to say something in response to his desperate pleading, but wasn't able to string thoughts into words, but at the very least she could clutch him close and look up at him. Wasn't she not supposed to be resonating so deep? She couldn't remember why.

Why wouldn't she want this? Her soul vibrating in time with him. All she wanted to do was fall in deep. She let him in, let his presence expand in every single part of her and reveled in the feeling of closeness. She wanted closer. Wanted to crawl in his skin and live there. She was wrapped in his wonderful warmth and it was so so good. Why had she fought this again?

* * *

She felt herself being moved, physically jostled as someone was looking at her wound. Felt hands and motion and them someone was tipping something bitter into her mouth. She tried to squirm away, sharp pain piercing through her foggy mind causing her to gulp and sputter the medicine down. She struggled against arms that weren't Soul's and she felt her attacker being pushed aside as Soul assumed physical custody of her body again. She leaned into him, aware they were in a car, moving locations. It didn't matter. She was safe.

She felt whatever drug she had been administered hit her even as they were pulling into a parking lot of a motel. A little of the fog lifted and she was just aware enough of her surroundings to know that she was completely and thoroughly drugged. Time lapsed and she was stretched out on a dresser having her side attended to, her head examined. She felt exposed and vulnerable but that the same time safe because Soul's hand was in hers and his resonance was steady and balanced.

* * *

Another dose of foul medication had her free of pain enough to walk haltingly to the bed. She noticed that they were in a hotel room with two beds and crappy lighting but didn't care enough about the detail to wonder where or why. She just needed to lay down. She sprawled on the bed for a few, letting the world sway and rock until it steadied, before reaching out and grabbing Soul's hand to try tug him down on the bed with her. Her strength was nonexistent however and she only managed to pull herself to a sitting position.

Maka swiped at her pigtail that was clinging to the corner of her mouth and then pulled at it frustrated until Soul reached over and gently pulled loose first one tie than the other. Her coordination was laughable but he didn't even smirk at her. He turned and sat on the bed, bending at the waist to unlace his sneakers. On one hand she knew it was irrational to cling to him like a burr. She knew her father was watching with a frown. That Stein, though less judgmental, was also probably cataloging her every move in the name of science.

However her mind was fuzzy and the line between want and do was seemingly nonexistent. One second she wanted to be closer to him and the next she had spread her legs a little to accommodate his hips and scooted right up on him, with no thought passing through her mind in between wanting and doing. She felt a very faint tug of embarrassment but it was so removed from her stream of consciousness that it didn't stop her from sliding her arms around him and laying her head on his nice warm back between his shoulder blades.

She had a moment of déjà vu as she slid one of her arms around his hips and the other around his chest and relived the moment of possession and triumph from when those girls were watching. She felt emotion surge up inside him like a tide, want and need and pulling, before he tried to slam their wide open bond like a door. But she felt it, resisted and clung to him tighter.

"No Soul." She whimpered, almost not recognizing her own roughened voice in his ear. "Leave it open."

The pushing at their bond ceased but the tide of his emotion, hot and pounding and unfamiliar, seemed to shudder and pulse at her words. Jesus she was high. She wasn't sure whose feelings were whose, though the dark pounding of want rushing through her was more raw and primal than she had experienced before. She wanted to sink into his soul so she could hear his thoughts but on some level she realized that it wasn't a good idea. One she was on powerful narcotics; another was that if he wanted to share his thoughts with her he would.

She opened her eyes, the light seemingly filtered and dark and met her father's eyes. He was staring at them, open mouthed and quiet for once and she felt smug at the implications. That's right daddy, Soul is mine. You can't keep us apart. She wanted to crawl in his skin and feel what he felt. She pushed their bond open wider, closing her eyes and delving into his pulse.

Stein was giving Soul instructions to wake her every half hour and to monitor her temperature. She slipped one hand under his warm soft t-shirt to run fingers over ridged muscles hard as iron and reveled in how each brush against his warm flesh caused his soul to dip and flare in response. His voice in replying to Stein was measured and normal, no one who couldn't read soul wavelengths would know that Soul was anything other than calm and detached. The power of knowing that he was no such thing and that she, Maka, was the cause, was a rush of feminine power. She wanted to turn her head and kiss his neck but she seemed like maybe her whole body was made of limp noodle instead of flesh and blood and bone.

Apparently Spirit would be taking first watch so Stein could get cleaned up and rest. There were two beds, they wanted her to lay down, to get some rest. She clung to Soul with no intention of letting him go. He managed to untangle her long enough to get them horizontal before she draped herself over him, trying to physically get closer. She could feel the embarrassment that would swamp her later, on the edge of her mind, but right now she just wanted to reaffirm he was okay with physical touch.

More than that she wanted to experience more of how his soul reacted to her touch. How breathing on his neck seemed to ramp up every dark shudder in his soul to 11. How her hands on his hips and his abs and his thighs spiraled him into overdrive. How he was physically holding himself back and how much pleasure he got from wrapping an arm around her, sliding his own oversized hand over her hips, how he adjusted their bodies to create more contact. How he ghosted lips across the crown of her head and told her to try to rest.

Her lids were heavy and she couldn't open her eyes. Still she fought to stay awake. To cling to their resonance. To revel in the want and desire for her touch that was new and exciting. She drifted for a while, aware and yet not awake, until his gentle shake shifted her into consciousness again and she wiggled closer to him, sliding one leg between warm thighs so she could fit their hips together more snugly. His hand clutching reflectively on her shoulder, his stiffness at their greater contact might have caused her to shift away, to give him the space his physical reaction said he wanted, if they hadn't been resonating.

She could feel his soul, could feel it cradling her and pulling her in deeper, the stubborn resistance holding him back from flooding her with the pool of desire and warmth and fire he was feeling. She rocked against him, tilting her head back to brush her lips over his collarbone and almost physically shook from his souls recoil as he clutched her even closer and stuttered out a held breath.

One hand dipping lower than her hips to cradle her ass and show her just how to rock into him. She delighted in the firm pressure between her tingling thighs even has he seemed to gain some semblance of control and scooted them slightly so they were more decent and asked her the date to confirm her alertness for Stein. It seemed like she drifted in and out for hours, clinging to resonance to keep her grounded. Trying to cling to consciousness when Soul roused her but failing time and time again. Finally, the horrible rocking in her head stilled a bit and she felt true sleep tugging her down, and her resonance with Soul slipping away.


	5. In which Maka is Observed

When Soul finally succumbed to sleep Spirit let him be since it was only an hour till dawn and the boy had not had any trouble rousing his daughter from sleep throughout the night. She should be fine to sleep uninterrupted for an hour or maybe two. She was still wrapped around him like cling film but Soul didn't seem to have any trouble sleeping despite having his daughter draped over him, and the one hand he had on her rested a respectable two inches above her rear.

He left them lay and went out to the small balcony to lean up against the railing in relative solitude. Stein was snoring loud enough to be heard through the thin glass but he ignored it. Spirit detested that little shit Soul on pure principal and perhaps he had used this dislike to cloud his vision as to the depth of the relationship with his daughter. He had honestly believed that she persisted on letting that degenerate follow her around on missions simply to infuriate him as a subtle form of revenge. It appeared he was incorrect.

The drug administered to his daughter had seemed to strip every layer of impulse control she had. The results had been surprising. Apparently without a filter her first and foremost mission was to literally crawl all over her weapon and indulge in resonance so wide open even he could feel the white noise from the link. He had never seen them behave in such a manner. Soul usually remained a respectful distance and kept his hands to himself unless Maka wanted him to hold one of hers. He disapproved of how close they sat, how likely Maka was too lay her head on Soul's shoulder. But he had never witnessed anything that couldn't be attributed to a close friendship and Maka's need to irritate him.

He idly wondered if Stein had chosen the particular drug he had administered to her with an ulterior motive. After all Maka and Souls resonance rate was unprecedented.

Who would have thought she would want that link, blown wide open and amped up, all night long. Outsiders might think the physical closeness she had insisted on was the most disturbing thing. But resonating with your partner. Literally bonding your souls, it was beyond any physical intimacy. She had wanted to be closer to him than skin and breath. If she had kissed him on the mouth, thank God she hadn't, it would have been less intimate. It was easier to focus on the fact that she had pulled the boy into her bed and hadn't let him go once for the entire night, than to acknowledge her level of trust for this miscreant that she trusted him with her soul when she was most vulnerable.

She might have been high and oblivious. But Soul had obviously been very aware that they were not alone. With few exceptions of a hand placed too low to still her wiggling he had behaved like a complete gentleman. Spirit would not have thought a 17 year old boy would have the restraint. With his own personal flaw being susceptible to a woman's charms he was duly impressed and resentful. After all the little whelp had obviously done it just to throw his own shortcomings into sharp relief. This restraint obviously had a lot to do with how she lavished her trust on a kid instead of her own father. His womanizing was a wedge between them and Soul was apparently smart enough to not give her ammunition to turn her anger against men on him.

Somehow he had thought his daughter didn't have any sexual interest in boys. Was perhaps a lesbian. She had never displayed any interest in Soul, treating him as cavalierly as one of her girlfriends. He had wondered if she even saw the lad as a boy and a time or two had even felt a bit of pity for the guy who followed his daughter around like a pig on a string. That was one fantasy down the drain in a rather spectacular fashion. He didn't think he would ever be able to look at her again and see his little girl after she practically licked her lips over the boy and proceeded to grind her ass into him at every turn. Jesus, he wanted to boil his eyes in bleach. The resulting blindness would be a blessing.

The sun was fully up and mocking him as he tried to come to terms with how he was going to maturely handle the shocking revelation that his daughter was also a girl and had girl desires. Still he didn't go in and wake everyone. It had been a hell of a night and the damage Maka had taken had been a close call. He had no desire to close his eyes, not sure what kind of nightmares would be haunting him on the other side of consciousness. Being awake with his memories was bad enough.

The phone pealed into the silence and Stein's snore broke off abruptly as he flung out a hand to answer it. Spirit came back in, quietly closing the door, and avoiding looking directly at hir daughter as she detangled herself from her weapon and sat up blearily. He would look at her when she was away from him. Soul slept on, but when her weight was removed he almost immediately turned onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.

Stein ended the quiet conversation he was having and spun his feet around to get up all in one motion.

"The plane will be here in an hour." He said. "Maka, let's check you out before we wake Soul." Maka gingerly put her feet down and got up to totter over to the dresser, their makeshift table from the evening before.

"How good is her recall from last night?

The question was out of Spirits mouth before he could filter it and he could have smacked himself. But if she remembered the table, surely she would remember…other things.

Maka predictably groaned and shot him a death glare. "Please papa, I'm already embarrassed enough. Do not make this worse for me. You are not to say one word to Soul about it. Last night was my fault."

He held up his hands in a placating way and bit his tongue to hold back the whine building in his throat that he knew annoyed her so much. If he wanted her affection and forgiveness then perhaps he should look to her precious Soul for guidance. She seemed to prefer even Soul snapping at her to his most heartfelt pleading.

Stein ignored the byplay, helping her up on the table and inspecting her stiches with a clinical detachment. "No excessive swelling, it's not feverish. I think we got lucky here Maka. Be sure and thank your weapon for being so attentive last night." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "In fact this healing seems quite accelerated. If I didn't know better I'd say this wound was two weeks old. I wonder if resonance during convalescence transfers some of the weapons healing power. Perhaps your unconscious longing to keep open your especially powerful connection with Soul was instinctual on more than one level."

You could have fried an egg on Maka's face at Steins insinuation, but for him she only had a heartfelt thankyou instead of the vicious backlash she would have directed towards him, her father, for such a comment. Stein carefully inspected the bump on her head before letting her down. Despite his resentment and jealousy he still said not a word, at great cost to his poor tongue, as she made her way over to the bed to wake Soul.

She got far too close to him to gently shake him into wakefulness and despite Soul's evident devotion to his technician Spirit still flung himself across the room to intercept Soul's blade when he startled awake and half transformed. It turned out to be unnecessary as the deadly metal curved away from Maka and instead formed a protective barrier around her rather than a weapon turned on her and he felt twice as foolish.

It was a relief that no one noticed except Soul who gave him a wry look even before shifting back to flesh and bone with a sizzling snap. Then he was crawling out of bed, dragging his hand across his face, and eyeing his daughter in a critical way that reminded Spirit of Stein in some creepy way

Maka, as blind as ever to the unnaturalness of her surly weapon, simply smiled at the boy and hastened to reassure him that she felt much better. Quick as thought he was in her space, lifting her top, peering at her stiches, as if he had every right. She didn't even blink, simply swatted his hand away and announced Stein had already pronounced her healing. He did give her a particularly piercing look before slouching away towards the bathroom. Something about that kid set his teeth on edge. Watching Maka watch him, suddenly he realized the reason why was pure and simple jealousy. Maka loved that idiot boy. God help him.


	6. In Which Maka Observes

Maka sat gingerly on the plane, so as not to upset her stitches. Soul had somehow managed to act like nothing had gone on the night before. He had checked her stitches, peed, packed their stuff and helped her to the plane without so much as a weird look or a quirk of an eyebrow. She would have thought that he had forgotten the whole sordid evening somehow if it hadn't been for how carefully he avoided eye contact with her dad. It didn't even feel like he was avoiding conversation. She knew he'd been up all night, and he always slept on planes, so him smashing his head up against the window and promptly falling asleep was to be expected. It would have been weird for him not to go to sleep immediately.

Maybe he intended to say nothing about it. But how he could ignore it she had no idea. She had broken resonance, got her head bounced off a boulder, and then sexually molested him for hours. Oh, she was so going to die. She didn't know how she was going to face him, face this. She had ruined everything! Maybe it was for the best if he ignored it. If she hadn't ruined everything then maybe they could just go back to the way things were. Maybe his silence was the gentlest form of rejection she could hope for.

Unable to sit still she unbuckled her belt the second she had the all clear and made her way into the teeny tiny space that passed for a bathroom on a plane. Death's private jet was well appointed but a plane restroom was a plane restroom. Still there was blessed privacy and she splashed a little water on her face to refresh herself. She still looked a little haggard but there was a healthy color to her cheeks and her eyes were bright and focused. She hadn't even needed pain meds this morning.

She carefully lowered herself to the commode to stretch back and pull up her shirt so she could get a better look at her wound. She hissed a bit as she carefully pulled back the dressing, it was very sore, but sealed and healing. Stein was right. This wound looked at least ten days old, if not two weeks like he said. She was sore yes, but she'd been wounded often enough to know that she should not be on her feet today, much less without pain meds. Had it been resonance or that foul medicine? Most likely a combo of the two. She let her head fall back and took some deep breaths before peeking out the door to confirm Soul was still asleep before shuffling back to their seats.

A book sat innocently on her seat.

Her father wouldn't be so thoughtful. Stein would enjoy her discomfort, not give her an out. So Soul wasn't really asleep. He was faking it so he wouldn't have to look at her. She grabbed the book and flipped it open to the beginning, insanely grateful to have something to occupy her other than conversation. Still she just burned with embarrassment. She flipped a page, barely having absorbed the words on it and sighed loudly so he would know that knew that he was a big faker. Couldn't even face her.

What would happen to their partnership? They couldn't talk, they couldn't resonate, and now he couldn't even look at her. Her emotions were spiking and she was on the verge of tears. She shifted again, jarring his leg rather roughly, and he startled violently. He opened bleary eyes, his gaze immediately darting to her face to check on her. A clumsy hand fumbled over the seat rest to grab her hand before he shifted his weight and closed his eyes again.

Oh.

She was so stupid.

Here she was over analyzing again. Assigning him motive with no evidence. He was freaking tired. She should know him well enough to know he would have stirred to wakefulness when she had gotten up. He'd probably remembered the book he had at some time packed for her and gotten it out before going back to sleep. Soul could sleep at the drop of a faucet, but also was a surprisingly aware of her even while comatose. As was proper for a weapon of his caliber.

She clutched her book in one hand and his solid big palm with her other and tried to concentrate on her book. Nothing was going to happen to their partnership. She wouldn't let it. His hand in hers was a balm to her restless soul. He still wanted physical contact. He wasn't pushing her out. He was just sleepy because her stupid drugged out ass had kept him up all night with her wonderland routine.

She wanted to open up resonance. Fall into the black room and feel that closeness with him that she had rejected in the fight. Her memory was fuzzy and warped but she was sure she remembered his reaction to her properly. That had not been indifference. That had not been disgust. She was overwhelmed with curiosity on his thoughts about it. Still she restrained herself. He was tired and they didn't need to rush.

She needed to learn her lesson and not over analyze. Soul was a guy. She had molested him. Surely he would feel some lust or reaction or whatever. He loved her, that she knew, so it wasn't like that overwhelming affection and worry and care for her was unexpected or new. Somehow though, she had always thought, a physical overture from her would have him freaking out like she was his mother or something. She thought that was the way he loved her. Like a sister. She would have expected recoil. Not, whatever the hell she had gotten.

Soul was being cool. She needed to be cool too.

She felt eyes on her and lifted her head. Her father's glare was focused on the hand that was joined with her weapon. It was so intense that flames should have sprung up from the union. She was amazed he had been as well behaved as he had until now but she knew better than to depend on continued good behavior from her Papa. Eventually his crazy would spill out and coat her in embarrassment.

Stein however was also staring, which is probably what had drawn her attention. Staring and adjusting his calibration, or whatever he did when he played with the creepy knob on his noggin. He noticed her looking and gave her his patented I'm studying you smirk as he too let his gaze drift to Soul's hand in hers.

Stubbornly she went back to her book, refusing to let them make her uncomfortable. She'd held hands with Soul plenty of times outside of battle. Plenty of times. Nothing to see here folks. Just her normal, close, none of their business, relationship with her weapon.

* * *

The plane ride was blessedly short and Maka followed Soul's lead and acted as if everything was normal. Normal for them was her prodding him into wakefulness and forcing him to walk. He finally noticed her trying to push him and lug their bags and grabbed them both from her, giving her an annoyed scowl, letting his eyes dip to her abdomen where he knew she was feeling her wound start to throb.

He trotted down the stairs and across the tarmac to the limo, leaving her behind to deal with her hovering father who was whining about her evil weapon making her do all the carrying and did she want him to slice Soul up like onion rings. Her father was just so freaking blind. Why the heck couldn't he have carried her bags? Instead of waiting for Soul to fail so he'd have an opportunity to be an ass. She gave him an annoyed scowl she knew she had lifted from Soul's litany of facial expressions and turned away irritated.

She made her way to the car and got into a small argument with Stein about their destination. He wanted to take her back to his lab for observation. She wanted to go home. Soul was useless, engaged in a childish staring contest with her father and she was beginning to get very worked up. Yes she was injured. Yes she had a head injury. But Stein was off his rocker if he thought for one hot second that she was going to be his next science experiment.

She finally got Stein to agree to just give her some painkillers and antibiotics and let her go home when her father finally lost it. He heard the word painkillers and immediately began wailing. Those drugs turning her into a super slut and evil Soul taking advantage of her in her poor fragile state. He got worked up enough to grab her by her shoulders, his eyes rolling frantically around in his head like a frightened animal and his mouth working too fast for his words, as he begged her to stay a virgin. She was forced to put him down with a Maka Chop leaving a deeply uncomfortable silence as he twitched on the floor.

Soul stared down at him nonplussed, seemingly not noticing her burning tomato red face. Finally, after the pause went on too long, he looked up at Stein and smirked. "What kind of painkillers are you going to give her this time?"


End file.
